


There Is Hope (Bring You Back To Me)

by Krasimer



Series: All Your Tragedies [5]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And before that he visits the Barebone house, And her treatment of her children especially Credence, And kept him in a coma, Because EVERYONE DESERVES ONE GODDAMNIT, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, For over a year, Graves is nearly attacked when he arrives at the bakery, Grindelwald is an asshole and ruins everything, Grindelwald tortured Graves, Hopefully towards a happy ending., I accept nothing, In the form of mentions of Misses Barebone, Is stupid and I kind of hate them, M/M, MACUSA | Magical Congress of the United States of America, Memories, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, No-Maj is also stupid, Panic Attacks, Stupid Ass Decisions and Me Ignoring Them, Thanks for that JKR, War with Grindelwald, Where there's no one left., Working Out My Feelings Through Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 21:04:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8816221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krasimer/pseuds/Krasimer
Summary: By the railing, he could see a leather belt, probably the same one that Credence had worn.It was obvious what had happened, he thought as he wandered into a bedroom. The mother had killed the boy and the Obscurus had seen fit to take vengeance.One of the rooms was indistinguishable from any of the others. The same wallpaper, the same bedspreads. Everything was spartan and dull, no color to be found in the household of a bible zealous woman who beat the children in her care until they ran from home with their injuries obvious to the world around them. She had been a New Salemer, Miss Goldstein's least favorite person in the world, and not considered a threat under MACUSA guidelines.It was stupid.





	

She had taken her brood and vanished one night, Percival found out when he arrived at the Barebone house. 

The woman who had lived there had fed the orphans and they had been the ones to tell everyone else that she had gone missing. Mary Lou Barebone, a harsh woman who raised her hands to the children she adopted and acted like a pinnacle of purity and sainthood when it came to outsiders looking in. 

Percival sneered at the empty house once the neighbor had gone on his way, his hands tucked into his pockets. His fingers were curled tightly around the handle of his wand, his eyes darting over the facade of the building. He could almost taste the aftermath of the magic used to put the building back together. Obviously destroyed the night that everything else was.

"Hm," Percival muttered, glancing around before striding confidently to the door and pulling it open. It went easily, unlocked and loose on its hinges. 

The first thing he saw was the blood stain.

It was faint, the sort of mark achieved only by a forceful hit of a body against a ground. He'd seen that sort of thing before when the strange attacks had started. The first one had been a man who had ended up carted off to the hospital. A few careful obliviations here and there made everyone watching think that it had been a robbery. Those he had spoken to before memory changes had remembered a strange, black smoke.

There had only been two attacks when Grindelwald had taken him.

One of those attacks had seen the oldest Barebone child, the boy, the young man only eighteen a year and a half ago, hurt and hiding in an alley. Percival had heard sobbing, found him curled up behind a few trash cans and holding his hands to his chest. Too close to what might have been an Obscurus attack, too dangerous for him to be in the area. Percival had helped him bandage his hands and sent him home. The living situation wasn't ideal but the boy was a no-maj. It wasn't MACUSA's jurisdiction if his mother beat him or not.

Percival closed his eyes as he stood still in the hallway, his left hand dangling over the bloodstain. 

If MACUSA had gotten here first, maybe the Barebones hadn't disappeared to another state. Maybe they had been killed in an Obscurus attack, all four of them, mother, daughters, and son. Maybe the account of them being gone had been dealt with by telling a lie, wiping out contradicting memories.

He had walked the boy home.

Credence, his name was. Spooked at the shadows and seemed scared of his own. A young girl had come out to greet them, reaching for Credence's hand the moment she could. They'd identified each other, the girl had thanked him for bringing her big brother home, and then the two had scurried back inside. From the window, both of them in view, Percival could see their mother raise her hand against Credence, unaware of her audience.

The poor boy had let her, not an ounce of defiance in his bones as she took his own belt and struck him until he fell.

And Percival had only watched.

He opened his eyes, taking a deep breath of musty air. However long it had been since the Barebones had vanished, the house had fallen into decay quickly. The banister on the staircase groaned when Percival rested his hand on it gently, ascending the stairs carefully and quickly. The upstairs was as bad as the downstairs. There were moldy patches on the walls, water damage now that there was no one to care for the house. By the railing, he could see a leather belt, probably the same one that Credence had worn.

It was obvious what had happened, he thought as he wandered into a bedroom. The mother had killed the boy and the Obscurus had seen fit to take vengeance.

One of the rooms was indistinguishable from any of the others. The same wallpaper, the same bedspreads. Everything was spartan and dull, no color to be found in the household of a bible zealous woman who beat the children in her care until they ran from home with their injuries obvious to the world around them. She had been a New Salemer, Miss Goldstein's least favorite person in the world, and not considered a threat under MACUSA guidelines.

It was stupid.

A no-maj that injured her own children, beat them until they were left sobbing in cold alleyways. Percival had always hated the rules that kept them separate, had wished he could change things for those he knew to be breaking them. Somehow, one way or another, any reported law breakers found in a relationship with a no-maj were never reported by him. Even in his district, they were never turned in by Percival Graves.

In return, Daniel was safe.

Those who knew kept mum on the whole thing, a knowing wink and a kind question about the newest interview or press conference or newspaper appearance. Never direct questions, never anything that could be overhead and used to betray him. He had even been at the wedding of a witch to her new husband, a musician from Louisiana who played the trombone and danced well. She had heard him play in the street one night and their lives had intertwined ever since.

It was too bad, he'd told Madam President as they watched the boat sail away, he'd been informed too late. She didn't need to know that it had taken him a little too long to put away his best suit and make himself look ready for work instead of a wedding.

(Before Grindelwald had taken him and trapped him away, he got a letter once a month from them. They had settled in Italy and were expecting their first child any day, last he'd heard.)

Percival turned into the last room, a small thing that held a bed with the cover pulled tightly up, the pillow settled neatly despite how flat it was. The room was the smallest he'd found and he frowned as he approached the bed. When he pulled back the sheet, the thin fabric cold against his hand, he found blood smears all over it.

He knew, somehow, that this was Credence's room.

He remembered Tina Goldstein, tears in her eyes, reporting on the way Missus Barebone had treated her children. How the woman always seemed to hate her eldest son the most, the first boy she had adopted.

Taking a deep breath, Percival let the sheet drop and headed out of the room. 

He needed to find the Goldsteins.

 

The bakery was a small place, tucked in between other businesses, but no less beautiful for the size of it.

Percival waited outside until the crowd dispersed, fiddling with his hands in his pockets. Too many people made him nervous, the idea of someone finding him in the crowd and dragging him away and-

With a shake of his head, he banished the thought and entered the building. 

There were racks of pastries, breads and sweets and anything he could want to taste. There were things shaped like animals, eyes added in the form of chocolate chips or other such things. It was as if he had stepped in a magical shop and he double checked for signs of it being one such place. There were a few in New York, after all, and there was a chance this was one of them. A moment of searching the room, the young man in the back area that he could see, and Percival didn't see a single wand.

He did see the Goldstein sisters, however.

Tina was sitting at the small table in the corner, a cup of coffee on the table in front of her and a small plate with one of the many treats the store sold. It was half-eaten and she looked like she had settled in to work on something. At the counter was Queenie, the blonde giggling as she talked to the man behind it. He only had eyes for her, a sappy grin on his lips as he looked at her. Their fingers were twined together, next to the register, and they both looked happy.

Percival smiled when he saw that, trying to ignore the faint ache of loss in his chest. 

"Miss Goldstein," he announced his presence, taking a few steps towards Tina. "If I may have a word or two with you, there is something I want to discuss."

Her eyes rose from the book she was reading, slowly, as if she didn't want to be dragged away from it. Once she did look away, however, she threw herself out of her chair and slashed her wand out towards the door. "Queenie!" she called out, nearly stumbling over her own feet in her rush to get between Percival and the door. "Windows!"

Queenie drew her own wand, flicking her wrists and watching as the shades came down. "Got it!" she called back.

Tina's chest was almost heaving when she turned to him, her wand jabbing the air as she stared at him. "Explain now," she almost whispered the words. "Or I will obliviate you and toss you out the back door. If you're Grindelwald, you won't even make it that far."

The man behind the counter looked nervous.

Not, Percival realized, because of the display of magic. It had only been when he'd seen Percival's face that he had looked any sort of perturbed. "Grindelwald is being held by MACUSA," he started slowly, his left hand raised, his right still in his pocket. "I'm not him."

"Prove it," Queenie's eyes were angry as she stared at him.

It took him a second, staring at her dumbly, but Percival realized where she was standing. In between him and the man who had made her laugh. "I'm glad you seem to be happy, Queenie," Percival jerked his head towards the man behind her. "This your guy?"

"That ain't him," the man spoke up. "No way. You said the real Graves was a decent guy, something went wrong one day."

Tina nodded slowly. "Tell me his name."

"Who, me?"

"Oh, no sweetheart," Queenie laughed, turning to put a hand on his cheek. "I think Tina's asking Graves."

Percival met Tina's eyes, frowning. "I know you don't want my name," he hesitated, then sighed. "Daniel Razner. Middle name Lewis. Preferred that damned orange pekoe to anything else. Looks good in a suit, even with the ink stains on his fingers making him look messy," he shook his head and laughed. "And the last I heard, New York was obliviated and I know he would have been first on the scene."

Tina's hand was trembling as she lowered her wand, tears welling up in her eyes. "Graves," she greeted him. "Glad to have you back."

"Great to be back," he sighed again, looking at the floor. "Heard a story that says I haven't been the greatest person, being Grindelwald and all. Mind telling me what I missed?" After a moment of silence in the room, Percival looked at all three of them. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Well," the man behind the counter leaned around Queenie. "Jacob Kowalski, sir. I'm- I'm a, uh...Well, I'm not a wizard."

"...I am glad that Queenie seems taken with you?" Percival raised an eyebrow. 

Jacob blinked a couple of times. "Thought you was a wizard from the government they got goin'."

"I am," Percival nodded. "I'm currently on a leave of absence, considering what happened to me for the last year and a half, but I am. They haven't gotten rid of me yet."

"Thought me and Queenie was illegal."

"Oh," Percival snorted and rolled his eyes. "Not something I care about. Considering my own romantic...Attachments. I'll consider it a fair trade if you don't tell the police about mine for me not telling MACUSA about you."

"Yours?"

Percival sighed. "The night everything happened and memories were erased, my lover would have been first on the scene because he's a reporter and that's what he does. Now all I have of him are memories I'm not even sure are real and pieces that don't fit into the puzzle if he isn't."

"Daniel Razner," Jacob frowned, mulling over the name. "Makes sense now. Wait," he looked over his shoulder. "Get Queenie and Tina to talk to you, I'll be right back," he turned on his heel and scurried off, out of sight through the backdoor.

"He seems nice," Percival smiled at Queenie. "There's a couple things I know and there's a lot of things I need to know. I've been told there was a man there, the night everything happened. I want to go talk to him and find out more of the story. I want to know everything you can tell me, and I want to know who that man was."

"His name's Newt," Queenie laughed. "Newt Scamander. He studies beasts, keeps them in his case."

"Here," Tina stepped away from the door, a cautious glance at Percival when she did. He didn't move and she relaxed slightly. "I've got my copy of his book. Spelled the cover to look like a different book entirely when he dropped it off for me. And that's," she picked it up, holding it to her chest as she studied him. "That's another thing. It's been four months since Newt first arrived in New York."

That information felt like a blow to the gut, the knockout punch of a fight. 

"What?" Percival looked at both the Goldstein women, expecting a laugh or a smile, some hint that it was a joke gone terribly wrong. "You're-"

"Hey, hey, sit down," Queenie stepped forward, taking his arm in her hands and guiding him to a chair. "They didn't tell you that, did they?" she searched his face. "Oh, no they didn't. They told you the basics, that something had happened and that you had been found in your own home...You were asleep for a long time, mister Graves. Almost two years, it must be. Oh dear, that's no way to find out," she patted gently at his back. "Just breathe," she whispered when he started hyperventilating, his left hand clutching the edge of the table, his knuckles white. "I am sorry, mister Graves. They should have told you."

He panted for air, desperate for something to help the odd feeling in his head. 

It was dizzying, the realization of the loss of time. That they hadn't told him - Had they just expected him to never question it? What did that mean for him, working for them and never being told how much time had passed?

"Hey," Queenie said again, her hand rubbing soothing circles on his back. "Breathe. Very important. You'll figure it out later. I think that you thinking about your job right now isn't gonna help you much. Here," she took something from Tina, curling his hands around it. "Drink this. It's water, it'll probably help a bit."

It was cold against his tongue and Queenie was right. It did help some, the faint ringing noise he heard going soft again.

"There we go," Queenie smiled. 

Percival looked up at both of the sisters, his eyes wide. He could feel the fear building up around his eyes when he did, and he wondered how many more surprises the world had left for him. 

Queenie looked towards where Jacob had gone. "Hopefully not many," she reached out to take something. 

The long pages crinkled in her hands and she held a newspaper. "What're we lookin' at?" she asked Jacob, sneaking a small kiss onto his cheek. "Honey?"

"There's a reporter named Daniel Razner who writes for this paper," Jacob smiled, his cheeks a warm red color. "I figured...If yer lookin' fer the guy, that might be him. I mean, I don't think there'd be too many Daniel Razners in New York. Ain't that common a name, I mean. Figured he could use some proof that the guy he loves is real."

"You're a sweetheart!" Queenie praised him, taking his hand in her own. "Come here," she pressed another kiss to his face, her arms wrapping around his shoulders for a second.

"Ah, watch your dress, you'll get flour all over it," Jacob smiled up at her. "Don't wanna ruin it."

Percival tuned them out, running his finger over the name in print over and over and over again until he felt like he could feel the letters without seeing them. Daniel Razner.

Daniel Razner.

Daniel Razner existed.

"I didn't make him up," he whispered.

**Author's Note:**

> And now we're getting to the really interesting parts. 
> 
> I wanted my version of the real Percival Graves to be someone who hid his real self. Someone everyone thought they knew but who was really a mystery to most of them. Dude is smart, headstrong, protective, and has a sense of morality that doesn't line up with MACUSA's. He joined them to try and change things.
> 
> If any of you really like this story, tell me? I like hearing from people.


End file.
